


In the Twilight

by CyberHiker



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alik'r, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dunmer - Freeform, Dystopia, Earth, Escape, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Failed State, Hammerfell (Elder Scrolls), Mercenaries, Modded Skyrim, Morrowind, Multi, Nords (Elder Scrolls), Redguards (Elder Scrolls), Romance, Slow Burn, Social Commentary, Tamriel, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21643459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberHiker/pseuds/CyberHiker
Summary: And ode to the Dunmer and my favorite Dunmer companion. Based in a post 2020 corporatist, authoritarian world where riots have gripped even developed nations. The gap between rich and poor has effectively created two classes: the elite and everyone else who lives on scraps. Technology, climate change and economies of scale have ruined any chance of humanity's huge population surviving in any meaningful capacity. Tamriel's races exist on earth, but only mer are capable of magic. Many mer and beast races have intermingled in human societies. Tells a story of unlikely love, survival and rebirth.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Original Female Breton Character, Ralof/Original Female Redguard Character, Teldryn Sero/Original Character(s), Teldryn Sero/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

The riots had been going on for two days and two nights. It was well into the third day, I was sitting at my window in my dark flat on the tenth floor and peeking out into the chaos below. They had started looting shops today. A group of young men had started off molotovs and thrown them into the local electronics store. People were trampling over each other to get in and raid the place. There were bloody bodies strewn everywhere. Some men dragged a woman off into an alleyway and had their way with her. Like a depraved hermit I couldn’t stop watching. My secluded location made it look like I was watching a movie. At the same time my stomach churned with anxiety and fear. The government broadcast reminded people to stay barricaded at home until help would arrive, but I could only survive another night before I had to get food. There was no way anyone was going to show me any mercy on the streets and it was unlikely that there was much left to take. Police sirens wailed in the distance as I closed my eyes and imagined it was just a feverish dream. How did we get here?

Suddenly my tv made a strangled high-pitched noise. The broadcast was changing! Something was going to happen! “Citizens, the city is under a curfew. Military police and contractors are being sent as we deliver this message to you. Law abiding citizens have nothing to worry about. Criminals will be prosecuted and punished. Aid will be delivered as soon as the situation has improved to a reasonable level. Stay indoors, be vigilant. This message was brought to you by the imperial government. Sponsored by Mer-co.” The incessant jingle of the Mer corporation’s theme made my jaw drop. We were well and truly property to them. 

Sounds of machine gun fire and chopper blades snaked their way through the air and I rushed to the window, keen on keeping a low profile. I saw dozens of blackhawks and chinooks suspended above the city. Ropes hung from them like spindly vines and on them, military and mercenaries alike slithered down into the maelstrom. The evening light from above and the red glow from the fires beneath created a lightshow that would have awed me had I not been absolutely terrified of what the night would bring. I saw a commando of snipers on the rooftop above the market square directly across from my building. They were likely elite Bosmer from Mer-co’s military division. Below them, groups of riot police and swat had started baring down on the more violent protesters. Huge hulking officers deployed to the front were beating on the rioters with batons and squads of mercs were shooting into the masses with rubber bullets. The rioters parted like a shoal of fish and tried to encircle the teams. Blood red flashes bared down onto the crowd from the shadows and almost immediately it collapsed in on itself. Protesters randomly started attacking each other and it was complete chaos. People were vaulting over each other to escape through alleyways but the few stragglers that made it were shot by the hidden hunters on the rooftops. I watched in horror as I realized what was happening. They were being massacred. No justice was going to be enacted. Judge, jury and executioner were called at twilight to work all through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sponsored by Mer-co™.  
> Inspired by @paraparadigm's [Always Read the Fine Print](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168293/chapters/47782804) and @HermitWitch's [From the Ashes of My Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141501/chapters/45492514).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ava awaits her almost certain fate in a high tower only to be rescued by a knight in shining (combat) armour.

I woke with a start and stared, barely comprehending what I saw. The same gaping wound that the twilight had closed now opened with the rising sun. Morning dawned on the slaughter in my street and the market square. My shoulders were hunched and cramped and my stomach growled and twisted painfully. I drank some water from the pitcher I kept nearby to keep my stomach satisfied and stood up to stretch and glance at the only thing connecting me to the outside world.

The tv displayed the same warning message and to await further instruction. An uncomfortable crawling sensation gripped my stomach. The internet had been cut off for days. Curfews had been imposed. The cattle was only being rounded up and prodded up until last night. They wanted us to give them a reason to really expand on their control. 

I looked around my flat. The floor to ceiling windows were covered in raindrops. The distant sunlight reached in to caress my cheeks. I barely registered the warmth and solemnly turned to my black tiled kitchen. The cupboards were empty of anything palatable. A frantic search revealed a can of tuna crammed in the recesses of the pantry and I desperately ripped open the cover to consume what could be my last meal. 

Books and piles of paper laid strewn around on my pinewood floor. A reminder of past ambitions I couldn’t afford to pursue anymore. A distant clanging noise brought me back to the very real situation at hand. I ran to the window but all was quiet. Then I realized it was coming from the other side of the room. It dawned on me that whoever was causing that racket would mean a very bad time for me. The best I could do was wait it out.

Shouts and gunshots traveled up from the lower floors and it seemed like the aggressors would be barreling down on me soon. I skittered into my bedroom and hid cowering behind my bed, raw flight instinct failing my ego.  
My breathless pleading to all the gods went unanswered. I guess a lifetime of disbelief didn’t exactly help rack up the good girl points. Then I heard my front door splinter off its hinges. A powerful kick must have sent it off.

“Secure the area.” A commanding alto voice barked. 

“Clear.” A male voice shouted. That was the living room.

“Clear.” Another voice yelled. That was the kitchen.

Light whispering footsteps invaded my room.  
“Cl- What do we have here?” A distinct gravelly baritone half-whispered. 

I looked up, my hands inching up towards the ceiling, into the barrel of an Armalite assault rifle. My eyes traveled down the embossed barrel, up to the sight and further to meet two rubies set in obsidian. I blinked and the focus revealed the intense stare of a Dunmer clad in black meshed combat armour. 

“Stand up. Nice and easy, sera.”

I gulped and complied. 

“Captain.” He mentioned, keeping his eyes on me.

The captain, a commanding Colovian Imperial dressed in the distinctive red fatigues of the Imperial army, stomped in and studied me. The scowl on her face told me she was not feeling very understanding.

“Cuff her Sero. She goes with the other prisoners until we can process them all.”

The Dunmer grimaced ever so slightly and replied “As you wish.”

“Bring her downstairs and wait with Hadvar. This is the last building.”

She marched out of my line of sight and rallied the others.

“Next flat, move it!”

“Yes ma’am!” The remaining soldiers filed out of my flat to assault the other unsuspecting residents of the building.

Sighing, the Dunmer hoisted his rifle and regarded me with his unreadable crimson eyes.

“It would be easier for both of us if I didn’t have to manhandle yet another unwilling prisoner. Things can get… messy.” He drawled.

“Do it then, I won’t stop you.” 

“You couldn’t.” He chuckled and brought out a pair of plastic handcuffs. 

I looked resolutely at the ground and extended my wrists. His rough hands deftly fastened the cuffs. With his hand lingering on my shoulder, he eased me out of the destroyed door frame of my flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music that accompanied my writing: [ Ed:It - Turn To Nothing ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YTwQyZLi6A).  
> I promise this isn't a case of Stockholm syndrome.


	3. Chapter 3

We passed the rubble and corpses the soldiers had left behind. A mangled redguard laid twisted in a knot, mouth agape in defiant rage. Two nords sat slumped against the corridor, a pair of crimson eyes painted on the wall indicated were they had been shot in the head. Shock and anger chased each other in my head and my knees started to feel weak. 

“Suppose it’s too late to tell you not to look.” My warden sighed. “The honourable Imperial army doesn’t take kindly to resistance.” He muttered bitterly. “Let’s keep going. The fellow they left behind isn’t as much of a fetcher as the rest of them.”  
The power had been cut days ago so we resorted to taking the fire exit. Two minutes later, we exited into a blinding dawn. Squadrons of officers were patrolling on the square and clean up operations had begun. No civilians remained on the streets.

“Over here.” A dignified Nord waved us over. His eyes looked forlorn and his features weary. “Where is the Captain?” He enquired.  
“Rounding up the last poor sods.” The Dunmer reported back.

“Alright. Get her cuffs off, I need to ID her.”

“Certainly.” 

The mercenary strode around to face me. In the light I could pick apart his features better. They were both regal and rugged, accentuated by snaking facial tattoos under his cheekbones. I offered my bound wrists and he cut through the binds with his combat knife. His deep scarlet eyes looked up into mine for a moment. My heart missed a beat, but I tried to convey a sense of aloofness. 

He smirked and said: “She’s all yours Hadvar.”

The Nord approached with a tablet and grabbed at my hand. I reflexively twitched back and he sighed and extended the tablet to me.

“Place your index finger on that green surface there.”

I rested my fingertip on the screen and before you knew it, a profile appeared. Hadvar hastily turned the tablet back to read it.  
“You’re a long way from the Imperial City, Ava. What is a research scientist doing in the slums of Helgen?”

“Ex-scientist.” I quietly corrected. 

He raised an eyebrow and continued: “Well you’re cleared. You’re going in the refugee camps with the rest of the lucky ones. I apologise for the rough treatment should there have been any.”

The Dunmer, Sero, stood crossing his arms with his back to the building wall watching the street. He furrowed his brow slightly and ran a hand through his mohawk, but otherwise did not react.

“Can I contact my family?” I asked.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible with the current situation. Rebels have been causing chaos and we are evacuating the buildings.”

“And clearing them of all people at the same time.” I retorted.

“Right… My Dark Elf associate here will bring you to the holding camp we’ve erected. The you, along with whoever else they find will be taken to a refugee camp.” With that he nodded at him busied himself with the tablet, probably writing a report or checking some details.

With mock effort the Dunmer pushed off the wall and wordlessly grabbed my upper arm. 

“Anything else you need Hadvar? Perhaps a coffee when I get back?” the Elf snarled.

“If I were being paid as well as you, I would shut up Sellsword. You work at his Imperial majesty’s pleasure.”

“You must have me confused with yourself. I work at my own pleasure.” The roguish mercenary twisted us around an began to walk up to the market square.

When we were out of earshot, I asked him plainly: “Why do you work for them?” 

“They have the coin and I am the best gun for hire this side of Morrowind. Although if you ask me it’s coin wasted on errands and executions.” I thought his stark profile fit in well with the jagged edges of the buildings and the grey sky. 

“We all do what we can.” I observed.

“And why aren’t you in some cushy research job in the Imperial City?” He turned to me with piercing eyes. “Helgen is for the desperate and needy.”

“I came here to try and help out. Make a difference. I was a volunteer medical tech.”

“Look where that brought you. Should have stayed back home, nothing but poverty here.” 

I scoffed indignantly “At least I can die knowing I’ve tried to help out.” 

He smiled sardonically and replied “No, all you’ll do is die sooner rather than later.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woo the not so merry christmas update is here! Apologies (heh) for the delay but general life stuff has kept me busy and my muse left on an impromptu vacation. I intend to finish this story, thank you for your continued interest!

Pulverized rubble lined the damp streets that led into the enclosed marketplace. Concrete and steel buildings encircled a makeshift camp that sprung up like a weed overnight. Around a dozen small white tents were erected in rows, with a pair of large tents standing in the centre of the square. Soldiers in red patrolled in formation and Altmer mages in their distinctive navy-golden garb observed condescendingly. West of the large tents a firing range had been set up, no doubt for impromptu executions. We approached the leftmost large tent and the mercenary stepped ahead to open the flap. 

“Enjoy the Imperial hospitality, sera.” The merc grimly remarked as I passed through and turned on his heel. 

I was being passed around like a hot potato it seemed. An infirmary and a food line were set up at the far end. Cots were lined up and sleeping bags filled out the rest of the space. People were milling about, engaged in strained conversations. Another captain from the looks of it approached me with yet another data pad. He thoughtfully stroked his black beard.

“Fingerprint.” 

I complied again.

“Hm.” He arched an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t elaborate. “You get cot 56. I will print out an ID for you. Use it for picking up rations. Leaving the area outside the square is strictly prohibited unless explicitly authorized.”

“How long until we get to go back to our homes?” I asked.

He sighed and in a thick Nordic accent explained. “As long as it’s necessary to purge the city of rebels, but between you and me, these damned traitors won’t last more than two days. This is for every citizen’s own protection. Now…” he handed me an ID the pad had printed out. “Don’t get into any trouble if you know what’s best for you.”

I picked it up without much fanfare and headed deeper inside. The soldier presence was rather lacking and I was grateful for that. I ambled down the rows, looking at the numbers on each unit as I passed. My cot was sandwiched between an unoccupied one and an older Redguard woman’s. She quickly looked up and smiled faintly at me. I mirrored her.

“I see we’ve got a new neighbour partaking in our collective misery. Too bad they’re not handing out any ale, then we could have pretended we’re all on a little camping trip.” She joked. “Name’s Safia, what’s yours?”

“I’m Ava. Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine. Did you get here by yourself?”

“Yeah. I was stuck at home for three days during the riots. I live just off the square.”

“So you saw what they did last night?”

I gulped and answered hesitantly. “Yeah I saw when they deployed the military police.”

“Heh.” The Redguard exhaled sharply. “You mean when they deployed the butchers. They left mayhem to stew for three days and then came to mop up the stragglers. Bastards.” She seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve.

“I know them very well.” I replied bitterly. “I grew up in the Imperial City. Couldn’t survive the constant backstabbing, so I left to come here.”

“It must be a viper’s nest there.”

“It was. Skyrim is hardly friendly, but at least you know where you stand with the Nords. I prefer it here.”

“Although back home the climate is the complete opposite, we Redguards have at least that in common with them.” She approved. 

Just then a young Breton woman and a hardy Nord walked in on the conversation. 

“What’s this!?” The hulking draugr of a man, who was carrying two disposable coffee cups, bellowed at Safia. “Why are you fraternizing with a gods damned Imperial?” 

“Calm yourself Thorald! She is as ‘temporarily displaced’ as us and it seems not a stranger to Skyrim.”

“Hmf.” The gruff man looked me up and down, his wordless disapproval still marring his face, and handed a coffee to Safia.

“Here take mine.” She offered. “The… distinguished gentleman is Thorald and his fetching companion is Alessia.” 

The Breton girl waved enthusiastically. “Hi there! Guess we’ll be bunkmates. Sort of. What’s your name?”

“Ava.” I smiled back at her. “Do you all know eachother from before?”

Safia nodded. “They’re my employees. We run a pub a few blocks from here. Although how much of it has been smashed up and stolen, I can’t tell you.” She huffed.

“Is it the red wave by any chance?” I enquired.

“My pride and joy! So you’ve visited us before then?”

“It was on a work do. I don’t usually have time to drink, on account of my schedule, but it was really cozy. A lovely place.”

“Thank you. We really do try to take the best care of it.” The Breton chirped. “What is it you do?”

Thorald placed his coffee on the ground, plopped onto his cot, crossed his thick arms and stared at me disapprovingly. He must have been the bouncer in the whole operation. 

“I… work at the hospital as a medical technician. I’m not classed as emergency services so I didn’t go to work the last couple of days.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t.” Safia interrupted. “Most of them are dead.”

My eyes widened. “No. That can’t be possible, those were my friends! How can you know that?”

“Heard it from one of the officers.” Her eyes searched the surroundings. In a low growl she said “See. That’s how the Empire and fucking Mer-co operate. No respect for human lives. We’re just an expendable resource to them. What does it matter who dies?”

The rattling of machine gun fire from outside dramatically underlined her point. I flinched and looked at the officer at the front of the tent. He was nonchalantly checking his phone. 

“They brought some more rebels, or whoever they deemed ugly enough today I suppose. Let’s go and take a look.” Thorald grumbled.

I was about to ask whether it was safe, but it seemed like half the tent had stood up walked over to the courtyard to look at who they had brought in.  
We stood up and filed out of the tent with another ten people. The officer who had processed me, Hadvar, stood next to the bossy captain by the firing range. The lounging silhouette of the Dunmer merc was partially hidden behind him. A row of around fifteen chained and cuffed people had been escorted to within five metres from us. I grabbed the cuffs of my hoodie and crossed my arms. It was chilly and not just because of the temperature.  
Four nords were chained together at the front of the queue. Three of them were well built and blonde while the fourth looked like he had seen better days.

“No, wait, we’re not rebels!” He protested.

“Face your death with some courage, thief!” The shortest of the three spat.

“You’ve got to tell them! we weren’t with you! This is a mistake!”

“Step towards the range, when we call your name. One at a time.” The draconian captain roared.

The whole scene suddenly hit me. My awareness lit on fire. They were grinding up people they didn’t want like scrap. Safia was right. I couldn’t stop watching. 

“Ralof of Riverwood. Lokir of Rorikstead.” She continued.

“No I’m not a rebel, you can’t do this! You’re not gonna kill me!” The balding brown-haired Nord broke out into a sprint, even managing to begin zig-zagging before the Captain gave the order to shoot.

His light must have gone out before his body hit the floor.

“Anyone else feel like running?” she seemed to relish the idea. “Next!”

The Nord with long strawberry blonde hair and ruddy skin stepped up.

Hadvar looked at him with his melancholy eyes. “You picked a bad time to come to Skyrim, kinsman. What do we do Captain? He is not on the list.”

In her glee the Captain forgot about the audience that had steadily built up around them. “Forget the list, he goes up against the wall.”

Murmurs went through the crowd. I could feel my new stiffen beside me. The air took on an acrid tinge. 

“They can’t be serious!” I half-whispered to Safia.

“Oh, they are.” She knowingly replied, but kept looking forward at the unfolding scene.

I was so transfixed by what was happening I didn’t notice the decorated officer who dissolved from the ranks behind the Captain went straight up to the next prisoner.  
“Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his president and usurp his government.”

It was the mythical leader of the rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak. No wonder the city had been a madhouse for three days!  
“That’s why we were living like zoo animals the past few days!” I whispered to Safia. 

Her brow furrowed deeply. “They were blast fishing. Very clever General Tullius.” Clearly it had disturbed her more than she wanted me to know earlier. 

“You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now the Empire is going to restore the peace!” The General exclaimed triumphantly.  
A faint grating noise exploded around us. 

“What was that?” “What the hell is happening now?” and other murmurs were heard from the crowd. A child started wailing somewhere. 

“It’s nothing, carry on.” The General declared, very eager to see his victory through.

“Yes General Tullius!” The captain, who was probably the only one who was having the time of her life pointed at the strawberry blond Nord.

“Next, the Nord in rags!”

The man walked up, staring straight into her eyes. His head was high and his gait was proud.

Another grating sound reverberated through the air. It sounded like something was getting closer. I looked at my companions anxiously and murmured. “What the hell is that noise? I think we should get out of here!”

“Ready!” The captain began the frenzied chant of orders to the officers stood in a row facing the Nord. The safeties all clicked off simultaneously.

“Aim!” A cacophony of rustling fabric announced the unexpected.

It was felt first. The air had been changing subtly ever since we came out of the tent. Then it was heard. And then, we saw it at last. A black, formless shadow among the clouds that descended upon us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided on some real life equivalents for the tamrielic nations. The story is set on earth but the regions have been renamed to the following elder scrolls nations to fit the AU:
> 
> Hammerfell = Africa and the Middle East  
> Skyrim = Canada/Scandinavia/Russia  
> High Rock = UK/Ireland/France/US  
> Elsweyr = South America  
> Summerset Isles = Australia/New Zealand  
> Cyrodiil = Rest of Europe (Yes all roads lead to the imperial city)  
> Dragontail Mountains = the rockies  
> Black Marsh = Southeast Asia + India  
> Morrowind = East Asia  
> Valenwood = Central America


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the months of no uploads, but I started a new job, which has kept me very busy up until now. So in order to escape form my current apocalypse, I have re-entered Ava's. Please enjoy and stay safe people!

A vibrating silence enveloped us before a rumbling growl pierced the sky. An unfathomable hulking beast with a hundred-foot wingspan dove at the square through the clouds. Terror pierced my heart at its sight, but my mind barely caught on to what was happening, as if entranced by its otherworldliness. 

“Ava, hurry, come with me!” I registered a female voice shouting at me. 

“Come on, the gods won’t give us another chance!” I looked in the direction of this new unfamiliar voice and saw Safia and one of the Nords that were about to be executed run by me and point at an alleyway.   
My legs turned and ran of their own accord. My mind sluggishly lagged behind, still caught in a loop. Gunfire erupted behind me and my shoulders reflexively hunched before I rounded the corner into the alley. A group of nords, including Ulfric Stormcloak, were crouched in the street. Safia and her two employees seemed to have arrived safely as well. 

“Oh Ralof, it’s so good to see you again.” She gave the burly nord a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“You too Safia.” His eyes seemed to drink in the redguard’s appearance. “I have to speak with Ulfric. We have to get out of the city and fast.” With that he turned his attention to his larger-than-life leader and bowed. “Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?”

Ulfric looked out at the chaos and grimly remarked. “Legends don’t burn down cities. We need to move. Now! We cannot count on this stroke of luck forever. Split up and take the new arrivals with you. I will take the rest of the men and we will regroup back in Windhelm.” Ralof bowed again and turned to us.

“The route we will take brings through to the eastern edge of the city. From there we will go to Riverwood. It will be a day and a half of trekking, but I know the country like the back of my hand. Try to grab anything useful that you can on the way and be careful of Imperial soldiers. Let’s go!” 

I had no idea what was happening and hesitated to go and the others started to move off. Safia must have noticed and came over to me.

“Ava dear.” Safia’s hand held my shoulder. “These are good people. Come with us. We will take you to Riverwood as safely as we can. I promise. It’s better than staying here with that thing baring over the city.”

I looked her in the eyes. “Ok, but promise to explain how you know them once we get there.”

Her smile betrayed fine lines at the corner of her eyes and mouth. “Yes.”

“This is insane.” I muttered and picked up the pace to join the rest of the group.

For what seemed like hours we weaved through the streets, sticking to shadows and avoiding the main roads. 

The sounds of heavy artillery and great rumbling roars served as the backing track of our escape. Smoke from the bombing started to blanket the city, and the visibility dropped dramatically. 

“Alessia.” Ralof beckoned from the front of the group and the slight Breton jogged up to him. 

“Can you see any further into this smoke? Specifically, can you see whether there is anyone just ahead of us?” he whispered to her.

“I think so. I have a spell for that.” The Breton concentrated, tensed her frame and her eyes lit up in purple hues. 

“Looks like three Imperial soldiers in a little booth up ahead. Twenty metres.” She reported, slightly out of breath.

“Can you see their weapons?” he asked.

“No, I’m sorry. I can only see their life force. If there is a spell for that I don’t know it.”

“We need some weapons, that much is clear. This might be the only chance we’ve got to arm ourselves before we meet heavier resistance. How long can you keep your spell up?”

“Only a minute at a time, sir. I need to rest a bit between uses.”

“Hm. It will have to do. We will also need a distraction to draw their attention. Safia, Thorald and I will sneak up and try to disarm them, you will have to tell us their locations beforehand.”

Safia peaked up. “How about Ava? She could pretend to be lost and draw their attention.”

Ralof shook his head. “No, the girl is untrained. You’re putting her at risk. What’s more, she is an Imperial herself. I can’t take the risk she will get tempted to turn on us.”  
I felt insulted at his comment, but it made sense not to put one’s trust in person he just met. 

“And your companion? I assume he will do because he is a nord?” Safia’s eyes rolled.

Ralof stared at her. “That’s not what this is about.” He replied coldly. 

“Well, I don’t suppose a Nord in prison rage will make for a convincing decoy will he?” she argued.

“Then you will have to be the distraction and Radgeir will take your place. As that leaves no one with Ava, we will have to gag and bind her.”

“You can’t be serious?!” Safia hissed at Ralof.

“Do as I say, Alik’r.” he commanded.

My eyes narrowed as the Nord looked at me and I said “Nice to see the nord tradition of honor alive and well.” 

Ralof’s face darkened, but he said nothing. 

Safia stepped up to me. “Let me do it at least.”

“Do as you will. Make it quick.” Ralof retorted.

I turned to the rest of them. Alessia wore a guilty expression while Thorald’s look mirrored his commander’s. The other newcomer looked at me with sympathy. Then Safia motioned for me to sit down. She procured a handkerchief from her pocket and grimaced as she explained how she would have to gag me with it.

“It’s freshly washed.” She offered as solace. 

She then pulled out the plastic ties that I had been bound with earlier and gently grabbed my wrists. I didn’t try to resist. 

“I am so sorry Ava. This is not how we should be treating you, but Ralof is not taking any chances.”

“I understand, but when this is all over I hope I never see him again.” I whispered back to her.

Her face pained for a second before she finished her handiwork. I closed my eyes, slumped against a wall and took a deep breath through my nose. She turned back around, ashamed to look at me any longer and wordlessly saluted Ralof. 

“We will untie her once we are done, Safia. Now, Alessia, you will follow us to the edge of visibility. Let us know when the soldiers have moved to question Safia. Each one of us will sneak up on a soldier and try to dispatch of them. Any trouble and you escape and regroup back at point Echo, backtrack one kilometre and take the other route. If you have to pretend you are civilians to try to get out of the city, do it. We cannot risk any more soldiers. For Talos, for the alliance! Safia, you are up. Concentrate, Alessia. The rest of you, move with me around back.”

The guerrillas made their move.

After a few seconds I could hear Safia’s voice, a few octaves higher, tentatively say “Hello? Anyone there? Please I need help.” Two guns cocked and I heard footsteps moving toward her direction.

“Do not move! Hands behind your head. Identify yourself!” An authoritative officer ordered.

“Please sir, I just need help. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m lost.”

Two sharp gunshots echoed towards me. 

Then, they all came back running. Ralof had a carbine slung around his neck and a pistol in each hand. 

“Safia, Thorald. You get these.” He gave them each one. “Let’s get out of here as quickly as we can. We still have a lot of ground to cover before nightfall. There is not much time.”

He dropped down to me and I looked him in the eyes quizzically.

“I did not enjoy having you tied up Imperial, but my honor prevented me from taking any risk for my people. We still have a war to fight. I hope you can forgive me.” He worked quickly to get my binds off and extended his hand. I hesitated, but took it and was hoisted into an uncertain future.


	6. Chapter 6

Safia and her gang ran us through the rat maze of a city. We dodged and weaved into alleyways and sewer systems. Most of the fighting and rioting was concentrated behind us and as soon as we reached the eastern suburbs, my jaws palpably loosened. Military checkpoints were set up on nearly all of the major roads leading out, but we managed to evade many of them walking through recently unoccupied buildings. We found some provisions that would last us a day in these visitations. Everyone was on edge and we wordlessly plodded along, with Ralof and Safia at the front and Thorald rounding out the rear of the group. Alessia, Radgeir the ‘Nord in rags’ and I huddled in the middle. I was useless with or without a weapon, but Radgeir looked like had been in a few scraps.  
After what seemed like days of walking and marching we finally caught a glimpse of the green belt between two single story houses. The small foothills caught the afternoon sun and the land looked invitingly green. Ralof stopped the group with a raised fist and his tense expression loosened in relief. Safia stopped next to him and sighed audibly. Her hand discretely found the small of Ralof’s back as her shoulders relaxed for the first time that day. 

“That was the easy part.” Ralof chuckled and turned toward the rest of the group. 

“We have made it this far, and your resolve is befitting of true Stormcloaks. However this is just the beginning. You saw what those bastards did in that city today. They won’t stop until they’ve squashed every single human spirit. We will not let that happen. Our…”

Suddenly a roar pierced the sky and everyone froze. The grim shadow of the winged beast we saw in the city soared over our heads and we scrambled for cover.  
The dragon screamed again and flapped it’s monstrous wings as it rose higher and higher and flew farther and farther. 

“Looks like it’s gone for good now.” Ralof remarked. He turned to Radgeir and said. “You know, you should go to Windhelm and join the fight to free Skyrim.” He faced me in turn and said. “You’ve seen the true face of the Empire here today.” And then he mumbled, mostly to himself “If anyone knows what the coming of that dragon means, it’s Ulfric.”

Safia cleared her throat. “Let’s head to Riverwood. Ralof’s family basically runs that town and we could all use a safe place to put our feet up for a while and think about our next move.”

Everyone was tense, but I could see steel in their eyes, even Alessia the cheery Breton was infused with a passion hard to describe. It felt infectious, and after what I had seen these past few days, my love for the empire had waned even more. I knew my best chance to survive for now was with these rebels, but as to what came after… I wasn’t so sure. 

Ralof eyed us and declared. “Let’s move. May Talos guide us.”

A few hours after dusk, Ralof stopped us at a farmhouse that looked as if it had seen better days. The two remaining walls were nothing but metal sheets and the roof was a giant hunk of rusting tin. Some old lightbulbs hung from threads of cables and dirty straw was strewn across the floor and nearly fossilised animal shit was heaped up in a pile in one corner.

“Fantastic.” I breathed and dropped the bag I had picked up full of provisions from a house nearby. 

“Hey, only the Stormcloaks can provide five star lodgings in a pigsty. You’d be hardpressed to have the imperials one up that offer.” Alessia quipped.

“You’re really selling yourself well. I’m even more tempted to take you up on joining now.” I laughed in return.

“Heh, show those Imperial milkdrinkers anything other than goose feather stuffed duvets and they’ll turn up their noses.” Thorald laughed.

“We might not be the most well equipped army… but we do know how to get down and dirty.” Safia snickered.

Radgeir, who hadn’t said much on the journey dropped his pack as well and took out a few cans of ravioli. “Now to complete the gourmet experience.” And handed everyone a can.  
Ralof who had said nothing grabbed it and nodded. Everyone thanked Radgeir and found a place where they could sit down and lean back for a while. 

I took out some water bottles form mine and gave one to everyone.

Ralof thanked me and stood up. “Once we finish eating, I will take first watch. Alessia will join me. We need to find a way to turn off these lights and avoid attracting attention.”

“Yes, sir.” The Breton answered. 

“We have come this far. I need everyone on their A-game. Get some rest soldiers and remain vigilant.”

Safia sat down next to me and groaned.  
“My old bones can’t take it much longer. I’m longing for some mead right about now.” She jokingly said.

“This time tomorrow, I hope we can all toast to how we managed to escape.” I replied.

“You know, you did well for a civvie. I have Radgeir here pegged for someone whose done all this before, but you’ve got some nerve. The way Ralof talked earlier about joining the Stormcloaks, I think he was talking to you too. We could use someone like you, even though you’re Imperial. If you believe in saving the Empire, you know they have to be unshackled from those elves.”

“Thanks… I just wanted to get out of there. I hope my colleagues and friends somehow managed to stay out of all that. Taking that food from people’s houses felt wrong. Killing those soldiers… I didn’t even register it at the time, but while we were walking, I nearly got sick. I don’t know if I can handle that. I don’t know if that’s the right way.” I sighed and cupped my face.

“We’ve got to survive. They would have done the same to us. They’re doing even worse things to people and you’ve seen that. We just met and I can’t even think to tell you what’s best for you, but you seem like you’ve got your head on straight.”

“Are you a stormcloak too?” I asked her.

“Not exactly. Nords don’t have the monopoly on smacking elves’ behinds when they’re not behaving.” She glanced over to Ralof who looked deep in conversation with Thorald.  
“I’m technically an attache to Ulfric, sent by the Alik’r. We are waging our own little private war against the Empire and the Thalmor. Have you heard of the Night of Green Fire? Massive explosion in Sentinel?”

“No… To be honest I never really kept in touch with the news before any of this happened.”

“Altmer rebels were attacked in the middle of the night in the refugee quarter with Thalmor magic. The whole quarter burst into flames. Thousands died. Tens of thousands were displaced. What right do they think they have to our sovereignty, that they can just attack at will anywhere? That night, many years ago sowed the seeds of rebellion in Hammerfell. When the great war was over after tens of hundreds of incursions into our territory, we seceded from the Empire, we called a truce with the Thalmor and the Dominion and they left. You see, we can’t officially fight them and win. But if we were to, unofficially so to speak, aid Skyrim in gaining its freedom from the Empire, we might stand a chance to convince other nations to join us and to fight back. Me and my people are here to make sure that happens. This is a rebellion thirty years in the making. We have had enough.” Safia’s speech was passionate and her reasoning resolute. 

“From what I can tell, Skyrim is divided almost 50/50 on that…” I countered.

“That’s only because no one has had the balls to take action yet.” She retorted. “We should get to sleep, Im taking the next shift. Good night.” She balled up her jacket into a pillow and laid down with her back to the wall. 

I sat still as the lights went out and mulled over what she had told me. These people were not troublemakers like the official statements made them out to be. They were believers in a cause that could potentially change the world. It made me look at everyone here in a different light. It made me wonder… did I have the balls to do make a difference too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, there will be a plethora of smacked behinds. Especially elven ones. Especially snarky eleven ones.


	7. Chapter 7

The mother of all backaches woke me up before any of the others were able to. I saw Alessia cuddled up to Radgeir in the corner furthest away from the pile of dung. I half smiled at the sight, wondering whether that was her intention or their bodies just inched closer together while they were asleep. Ralof was squatting and looking out at the bright sunrise that made me squint. Thorald and Safia were shooting the shit next to him. 

“Good morning.” I mumbled as I sat down next to Ralof. 

He looked at me and nodded with a forlorn look in his eyes. “Another half day’s walk and we will make it to Riverwood. The town is well stocked with provisions and I’m sure my sister Gerdur will help us out. After that…” he gave me a once over. “…it’s up to you what you want to do with your life.”

“You know, just because I’m an imperial doesn’t mean I condone what the Empire is doing. The elves have us by our balls after that treaty we signed.”

“The White-Gold Concordat. I suppose that is true.” He conceded. “Listen, we were in a hairy situation there. Moments like those, you do not let your guard down. I… apologise for tying you up, but you were an unknown, a stranger.”

“Apology accepted, but hey, you could sweeten it up with some mead. Only one of the many things I like about you Nords.” I smiled and offered my hand.

The warrior smiled back and shook it firmly.

“Aww hey, look we’re making friends today.” Safia butted in. “See Ralof, it isn’t so hard.”

“We were just discussing the finer points of Nordic culture. Care to join us?” Ralof waved the two over.

“Are we talking mead, women or both?” Thorald grinned as he scooted over.

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.” I half-rolled my eyes at him.

“No, he has a point.” Ralof said with a glint in his eyes and looked at Safia who shook her head, sighed and marched over. “But Skyrim is an old land, full of tradition which we are fighting to preserve.”

“I really do hope you have a tradition of making soft mattresses because my back is killing me from sleeping on this floor.” I rubbed the cramped small of my back.

“Need your mum to rub it better for you?” Thorald joked and offered me a water bottle from the pack.

“Thanks, but she’s dead.” I looked him dead in the eye. 

“Ah, sorry lass.” He retreated. “You did good for an imperial milkdrinker though. Might be made of the right stuff to join the Stormcloaks.”

“Woah, Thorald. That’s strong coming from you.” The Redguard balked.

“I just say it like I see it.” He leaned back and looked at the woman.

“I’d for one endorse the Imperial. She is unproven, but she has potential.” The commander grumbled.

“Woah, woah. Guys, I don’t even know if I want to fight. I admit… I think it’s a worthwhile cause to contribute to, but I don’t know if I can do that. Besides, I have other skills that I think might be useful.” I stammered.

“Don’t let them pressure you like that.” The Alik’r woman eyed me. “It’s up to you. Besides, your heart and mind have to be fully and truly in the right place.”

“The things they did to me in the Imperial City. The things I saw back there. I don’t think that there is an alternative.” I defended myself from her sudden change in attitude. “When… If I join, I know it will be the right decision. I understand you have no room for uncertainties in your fight.”

“Good.” She nodded and rubbed her eyes. “We better wake up the sleeping lovers over there.” 

“It would be my pleasure.” Thorald theatrically stood up, brushed himself off and walked over to the couple. “Wake up soldier.” He prodded at Alessia. “Fraternizing on duty? Despicable behavior! You better drop down and give me fifty!” he growled.

The Breton shot up while the other Nord groggily opened his eyes and slowly came to his senses. As soon as both realised what happened, they blushed in tandem and turned away from eachother.

“Haha, just messing with you kid.” The burly Nord grinned and smacked the girl on the back. “Once you go Nord…” His grin expressed what his words didn’t.

“Fuck off, Thorald.” Alessia shoved his hand off and ambled over to her pack. Radgeir moved over to the rest of us and greeted us with a hasty ‘good morning’. 

“You’re finally awake.” Ralof chuckled. “Good, pack up and let’s go. We still have some ground to cover.”

“Yes, sir!” The group chorused. I almost joined.

We arrived in Riverwood at the sun’s zenith. It was a lovely little village sandwiched between river and forest. The Nords did call it as they saw it, it seemed. A few dozen houses were scattered around and they were built in the distinct Nordic style. A small farm and orchard were set up closer to the edge of the forest while a sawmill stood alone, braving the rapids. On the main street there seemed to be two stores from where the locals could buy their provisions. A supermarket and a hardware store. DIY must be big around here I thought. Further ahead I could see a decorated building that looked like it could have been the local watering hole.

“Alright people, let’s avoid the main street for now. We should head left here and go straight for the mill. That’s my family’s mill!” he exclaimed proudly. We followed in single file.

A reedy Bosmer was chopping some firewood while a stocky Nord was working the sawmill. Neither seemed to noticed us as we slinked past them to a little spit of land jutting out into the river. A blonde woman stood with her arms folded and seemed to just be looking out over the river.

“Gerdur!” The commander beamed.

The woman jumped and turned towards us. “Mara’s mercy! Ralof! It’s good to see you. But is it safe for you to be here?”

“Gerdur…” her brother didn’t stop to embrace her.

After a short silence she exclaimed “We heard that Ulfric had been captured…”

“Gerdur I’m fine. At least now I am.” It showed in his posture. 

“Are you hurt? What’s happened?” she only then seemed to notice the rest of us. “And who are they? Your comrades?”

“Comrades and some comrades to-be… I owe them my life. Is there somewhere we can talk? There’s no telling who else knows what happened in Helgen.” His voice was low.

“Helgen… has something happened?” she paused. “You’re right. Follow me. Hod!” she shouted towards the sawmill. “Come here a minute I need your help with something.”

Moments later the man begrudgingly replied. “What is it woman? Sven drunk on the job again?” 

“Hod, just come here.” She impatiently called back.

A few seconds passed and Hod rounded the corner with a shocked expression.

“Ralof! By the Nine. What’s going on. You and your friends look pretty done in!”

“I can’t remember the last time I slept more than a few hours. What you heard is true, Gerdur. Imperials ambushed us outside of Darkwater crossing. Nabbed Ulfric, my regiment and Radgeir over here and carted us over to Helgen yesterday morning. Had us lined up with the firing squad’s fingers already on their triggers…” he explained.

“Cowards…” she shook her head.

“Gerdur. They massacred the whole city. There were riots for days. They let the town tear itself to pieces and at the end of it all, would have executed Ulfric. They wouldn’t dare give him a fair trial. Not with those pointy eared bastards breathing down their backs.”

“How did you manage escape? Those beasts wouldn’t have just let you go?”

“I still don’t believe it myself but… out of nowhere… this terrible sound, like the skies had been pried open… something swooped in. I think it was a dragon. A real live dragon.” Ralof shuddered. “In the confusion, I managed to find these four,” he pointed at the rest of us “and we slipped away. Are we really the first to arrive here?”

“No one has passed by in days…” Gerdur sounded very concerned.

“Good.” Ralof breathed. “Maybe we can lay low with you? I’d hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but we’ve…”

“Not another word out of you brother.” She breathed. “You and your comrades are welcome to stay. Let me worry about any Imperials. But there is something you can do in return. We need to send word to the Jarl in Whiterun. Riverwood is defenseless. If you do that for me, I’ll be in your debt.”

We all murmured in agreement.

“Now, I still have a lot of work to do, but Hod can show you to the house. You can rest and take any supplied you might need.”

Her husband looked relieved and said. “Come on, Ill take you there and show you the necessities.”

“Hmpf, you mean help them drink up all our mead… I will come by and we can all have a talk later.”

“Thank you so much, sister. I can always count on you.” Ralof beamed.

She nodded at us and turned to walk back to the mill.

Hod shifted awkwardly and mentioned for us to follow him. “Come, it’s just up the road by the forest.”

Thoughts of mead and comfortable down pillows filled my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing better in this world than a comfortable mattress.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is a Teldryn fic :P

“Ah Thorald, stop struggling against me. I’ve gotta get this done properly.” I reprimanded him as I finished stitching up a wound on his upper arm.

“Pah, what does a milkdrinker like you know?”

“You know, I could just take these stitches out right now. How’d you like that?” I quipped back.

“Thorald, show some gratitude, she’s the only one standing between you and a nasty infection right now.” Safia sighed.

“Hmpf.” The big guy sulked and kept still.

Him, Radgeir and Alessia had just come back from an old Nordic barrow that overlooked the village on the other side of the river. It had been three days since we arrived and we had decided that we wanted to rest and try to make some cash for our journey. Alessia came back with a lead form the general goods store’s owner. Apparently a family heirloom had been stolen by a gang and he had promised to pay good money to whoever brought it back. I thought it was a bad idea, but they were desperate to tangle with some outlaws it seemed. Neither Ralof nor Safia minded and off they went. 

When they’d come back, Radgeir was falling in and out of consciousness and he had to be dragged by Alessia and Thorald. Whatever happened, I was just glad I didn’t go with them.

Ralof stepped into his sister’s basement where we had set up some temporary lodgings.

He scanned the room and saw Radgeir lying on a cot to the left while I was on the right struggling with the squeamish warrior.

“Report. Is everyone alright?” He asked me.

“Alessia is fine. Im treating Thorald’s… flesh wound, but Radgeir is the real concern. His vitals are ok, but it looks like he has suffered some pretty severe head trauma. I’m monitoring as best I can, but if he doesn’t wake up soon we will have to take him to a hospital.”

The Breton was sitting by Radgeir’s side and didn’t say a word.

“Damn. Tell me that this was worth anything. Did you find what you were looking for?” he directed this question at Thorald.

“There was a gang holed up inside the ruins. Fuck knows why they didn’t choose somewhere more… modern. We managed to dispatch the lot outside, thanks no less to Alessia’s magic. Then we moved inside and took out the rest, quietly and efficiently. Their leader was a weasel of an elf.” Thorald spit. “Tried to pretend he was a prisoner of theirs. Anyway, we found the heirloom on him, but not until after he turned on us and grazed my arm with a bullet. Shot one right back at him, didn’t miss though.” He grinned. I shuddered a bit.

“Right. What about Radgeir?” Ralof was curious.

“Well, the fucking entrance just collapsed on us! There was no other way but to go in deeper. You know how those ruins are built… always a back entrance somewhere. That’s when we got into the burial chambers. What we found there… I don’t think anyone since the second age has seen something like this. The damn corpses were alive and they were some mean bastards.”

“First the dragon now this? I think we are way in over our heads here.” Ralof breathed in.

“Anyway… we fought through hordes of them. And at some point I was out of bullets so we decided to make a run for it. We got to this hall, but the fuckers didn’t seem to want to follow us in. I thought that Talos had finally blessed us when the heirloom turned out to be a key.” Thorald explained.

“Inside was a massive wall. Now Radgeir took one look at it and walked to it like a man possessed. Alessia was yelling at him to come back, but we couldn’t stop what came next. A single draugr got out of this coffin, took one look at Radgeir,” he paused and looked at the comatose man next to him “and shouted with the power of the four winds. Radgeir got flung against the wall, nearly cracked his head open and slumped onto the ground like a ragdoll. I made a dash for his gun and started pumping bullets into this thing while Alessia flung lightning bolts like a mad witch. We finally took it down and had to drag this guy all the way back.”

I listened intently to this crazy story. 

Safia interjected. “Alessia is this true?”

The girl looked away from Radgeir and simply nodded.

“By the HoonDing…There are clearly things happening that are more complicated than just a dragon attack. I’m betting the Thalmor are behind all this. It’s imperative we warn Ulfric.” Safia urged.

“Agreed. I think it is best we split up. You, Thorald and Ava should make your way to Windhelm tomorrow. We will split the reward money, it should be enough to get you back to friendly territory. Report to Galmar. I will stay with Radgeir and make sure he recovers. We will proceed to Whiterun and from there, to Windhelm.”

Safia’s eyes flashed painfully before she asked “How will we communicate with eachother?”

“It’s best we stay dark. There’s no telling what communications the Empire are monitoring. I’m sorry Safia.” Ralof’s expression mirrored hers.

She nodded tersely and stood up to leave the basement up the stairs.

“I will have a talk with my sister.” Ralof muttered. “In the meantime, you two should collect the reward. Is Thorald well enough to watch over Radgeir?” He gestured to Alessia and I.

“Yes, he’s fine.” I looked at the hulking man I had just bandaged up.

“Good. Very good…” the commander mumbled and left.

After cleaning up the room and making sure both my patients were still ok, Alessia and I found ourselves in the backroom of the store, barely listening to the grateful rant of the store owner.

“My claw! You found it? Ha ha ha. There it is. Strange… seems smaller than I remembered. Funny thing huh? I’m going to put this back where it belongs…” he reached to open a safe and locked the hunk of gold inside. “I’m never gonna forget this, you did a great thing for me and my sister.”

He looked at Alessia and handed her an envelope full of septims. 

“Here. There isn’t a sum of money I wouldn’t have given up to see that claw back, but it’s honestly all I can afford to give you now.” He seemed ecstatic.

I could tell Alessia wasn’t in the mood for receiving gratitude so I thanked him. “Mr. Valerius, thank you. We will put this money to good use. I promise.”

“Oh not at all. No trouble at all!” He beamed. 

I shook his hand and left with Alessia in tow.

As soon as we got out onto the street I turned to her and said. “Hey, I could really use a drink right now. I guess you could too, huh?”

“Yeah, definitely.” She grumbled.

“Let’s see if they’ve got any good stock in the Sleeping Giant. I bet they’ll have some honningbrew mead, can’t get enough of that stuff.”

“What about Radgeir? Shouldn’t we at least stay with him?” she asked.

“You know, that guy is really made of stern stuff. All his vitals check out. He’s got Mr. Grey-Mane himself looking out for him. He’ll be fine. What he needs now is lots of rest.” I smiled at her. 

“Besides, this money won’t spend itself.” I pulled out the wad of cash.

Her eyes widened. 

“Whoo boy that’s a lot of septims. That’s enough to get us all to Windhelm at least twenty times.”

“Who knew a small town general store could be such good business?”

“Right? We’re in the wrong line of work.” she giggled

“Let’s get this back to Ralof. Im gonna try to force some septims out of him.”

“I’ve known him for a long time now. He is completely devoted to the cause and I don’t think he would let us use any of that for a night out.”

“I’m the doctor, and I’m prescribing some R&R. He can’t possibly deny the wellbeing of his soldiers now.” I replied confidently.

“You can try…” she mumbled, obviously not convinced.

After a tedious back and forth, the commander had conceded 35 septims and let both Alessia and I head to the pub. The place was cozy and even had some live music playing. The vaulted ceilings created some amazing acoustics while the two of us sat down at a table to sip at some mead. On the stage a blonde guy, in his early twenties, was belting out a cover of the classic nordic rock song Ragnar the Red. Aside from us, about three other patrons, one who already seemed incredibly drunk were sitting and minding their own business. A coal fire was burning in the middle of the hall with a pot of stew hanging over it.

The bored looking barkeep came over to clear up the glasses and drawled. “Well, it’s happy hour as of five minutes ago. Pick your poison and make it double for only the price of one. Whaddaya want?”

“Oh, I’ll have two long islands please…” I ordered.

“Right, two shots of everything.” He sighed and looked at Alessia. “And you?”

“Two whiskey sours please.” She half-whispered.

“Great. Coming up.” He left and disappeared behind the bar.

“He’s a bit of a sourpuss isn’t he?” I joked at Alessia.

“Haha, yeah. I should have told him to go easy on the sour.” She chuckled back at me.

“Oh man, he would have loved us even more.” I cleared my throat and spoke in a hushed tone. “I’ve been meaning to ask. I get why Safia’s joined up with the stormcloaks. I don’t even have to ask Ralof or Thorald, but how come you decided to take up arms with them?”

She sighed and I could tell that she must have had this asked of her many times. “I’ve lived in Skyrim all my life. Just because I’m Breton doesn’t mean I don’t feel as if it’s my home. I love it as much as any Nord.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Gods… there are many Nords who wouldn’t sacrifice as much as you have.” 

“That’s alright. I’m just used to having to explain myself. Moreso than any other recruit in my regiment. My race was always brought up. The commander in charge of our cohort kept singling me out. He would tease me about my elven blood constantly. Some of the recruits shunned me, as if I was a turncoat.” She sounded sad. “The only thing that connects me to elves is that I can use magic. I’ve never even set foot in the Summerset Isles. Not that they’d accept Bretons with any more enthusiasm than the Nords usually do. All I know is that this fight is bigger than just skyrim against the empire. More than just man against mer.”

“That must have been incredibly hard on you. To have your convictions constantly challenged by the very people you want to help.” 

“I got used to it. It was hard and I had to suffer through a lot more than many others, but in the end, when I got my first stripes, it stopped. That commander who I went through basic training with was the one to graduate me and when it was my turn, he looked me straight in the eye, shook my hand firmly and announced that the spirit of skyrim ran through my veins. He said he was proud to call me a stormcloak and a sister. I almost broke down then and there, but I did manage to hold out until after the graduation.” She smiled in fond recollection. “It was the proudest moment of my life so far.”

“If every stormcloak has that same spirit as you, the Empire doesn’t stand a chance.” I smiled back.

The ornery barkeep orgnar skidded to a stop at our table and deposited the drinks without saying a word.

“Thank you.” Alessia sighed and took a drink from her whiskey sour. “What about you? I heard bits and pieces and if I remember correctly, you came to Helgen from the Imperial City? I can’t imagine what that must have been like.” 

I stiffened and took a gulp in turn. “Yes. I graduated from the Imperial University and was on track to a cushy career in drug research and development. It was going well for a year, but my supervisor was cutting corners on vital safety procedures to save money and I decided to open my mouth and went over his head. Turns out the entire upper management was in on it. They were doing it willingly because to them, making sure shareholders were happy was more important than delivering a safe product. I was dismissed, officially for being made redundant, but in truth they just needed to replace me with someone who could keep quiet. They threatened to open a court case should I ever come out with it. Just about everyone who’s from there has stories like that. I couldn’t handle it so I decided to move far away.”

“Oh wow. That sounds terrible. Why did you move to Helgen then? Why not Solitude or Whiterun or any other city?”

“Someone must have put out a bad word about me, because I was refused from all the research institutions.” I sipped my drink again.

“Those snakes. I can’t believe they would do that to their own people.” She exclaimed.

“Helgen was just another Monday for those bastards.” I mumbled. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. What I’ve seen the past few days and from what I’ve seen spending time with you guys, I’m sure now that I want to join the cause. To do anything else would be wrong.”

“I would be proud to call you a sister.” The Breton raised her glass and we silently toasted to Ulfric.

A few drinks later and we were giggling about how Safia and Ralof had always been conspicuously missing at bedtime.

“I’m sure they’re just out stretching their legs.” Alessia sarcastically drawled. 

“I don’t particularly think it’s just legs that are being stretched.” I snickered. “Speaking of which, I’ve noticed you and Radgeir had gotten… close in that shed we spent the night in. I mean not that I don’t get you, he is quite handsome… for a Nord.” 

Her cheeks turned red and she sputtered. “I was so tired after my watch, I just fell asleep next to the first person I saw.”

“Right, and my mother’s a horker.” I winked.

“Well, now that you mention it… he is easy on the eyes. And while he’s quiet, I can tell that he’s a good man. He was willing to help find that guys’s claw knowing it would be risky.”

“Aren’t you lucky that Ralof decided you’ll be staying with him then. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to find out. Speaking of which, we should head back. I need to check in on the two.”

“Thank you for this Ava. You’ve been a good friend.” Alessia hugged me.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.” I hugged her back tightly and my heart fluttered a bit. 

For the first time in my life, I experienced what real camaraderie could be like.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Trigger WARNING: There is a short description of non-consensual contact.

Nords were built of sterner stuff I concluded, as I watched Radgeir move around the next morning. My head throbbed and my mouth felt dry from the drinking, but I felt good knowing everyone was doing well again.

“Ready to head out?” Safia’s hand squeezed my shoulder.

“Yeah. I just need to change Thorald’s bandage and we should be good to go.” My hands were gripping the edge of the cot.

“You did a good thing for Alessia. Thank you.” The Redguard approved. “She needed that boost of morale, it was her first undercover mission.”

“Don’t mention it. I think we all need a distraction now.”

“Yeah. I think you’ll like it in Windhelm, damn the gods it’s cold, but you can smell the freedom in the air.” Her smile perked me up. “Let’s get that ornery Nord ready for travel.”

We had decided to travel to Whiterun on foot and take a coach from there to Windhelm. It was only a two hour walk and I was grateful for the possibility of clearing my head. The sun was shining on the rolling, verdant hills and I thought back on my goodbyes to Ralof and the rest of the team. I really hoped I could see them again. Once the outskirts of Whiterun appeared over the next knoll, I wondered whether we would go into the city. For all the time I’ve spent in this country, I never had the means to travel around.

“Damn.” Thorald exclaimed as I wondered what it was that he saw, we were heading straight towards a police checkpoint.

“They don’t look like Imperial soldiers…” I mused.

“No, it’s the Whiterun Guard.” Safia explained. “Come on, the coach station doesn’t look to be cut off.” She mentioned to a building to the right of the blockade.  
The three of us headed that way, under the silent scrutinizing scowls of two police officers.

A few tense hours later we were on the bus and headed to the capital of the rebellion, my soon to be new home. The journey took us through dense pine forests, valleys and canyons and then through deep marshlands before we finally arrived at the massive gates of the city proper in the early hours of the night. The surrounding areas looked to be permanently nestled under a blanket of snow, and even now in the middle of summer, a chill hung in the air that nipped at my skin. Thorald, with his arms bare took a deep breath as we disembarked. 

“Now this lasses, is pure unadulterated Skyrim. Gives a real Nord that tingly feeling if you’re following my meaning.” His eyes zeroed in on me as he grinned. I threw him back a smirk.

“Oh s-s-shut it will you, Thorald?” Safia shuddered in the, for her, harsh climate. “We’ve got a report to make and a bed to fall into.”

We moved through the old town where the palace still functioned as the de facto seat of government. Two guards waved us through the heavily fortified entrance. Nord sentimentality was oddly present in some aspects of society while remaining largely absent in others. Nothing betrayed this fact quite as much as the Nord love for retaining and using centuries old buildings in their original state, even choosing them in favour of modern conveniences. The palace was a stark, near monolithic tomb where daintiness and subtlety were laid to rest. As soon as we entered, the first thing that struck me was the lighting. My eyes adjusted to the dimness and I soon realised that the only thing providing any light were braziers and a hearth in the distant corner of the reception room.   
Safia’s foggy breath was a prelude to her complaints.   
“I’ve forgotten. Heating is still regarded as a sin in Windhelm… Well then people, time to face the old bear.”

She wasted no time crossing the room and zeroed in on the direction of the war room as if she had been there a thousand times before.

The war room was to the left of the reception room, through a large stateroom with two rows of conference tables and massive stained glass windows that framed the hewn granite throne on the northern side. It had been empty save for a small, shrivelled older man who seemed preoccupied with sweeping a single inch of floor at a time. He looked up, huffed at us and went straight back to his important work.

“Both of you…” The commander halted us in front of a large oak door. “We will meet with Galmar, Jarl Ulfric’s most trusted general. Make your statements as quickly as you can and wait for me outside.” She breathed in deeply and knocked on the door. A few moments later, the door was thrown open by a burly guard. 

“The General and the Jarl are in a meeting. What is your business?” he huffed.

“The Jarl is here?!” Safia exclaimed. “How long has he been here for?”

The guard rolled his eyes. “To my knowledge, only since dusk. I ask again, what is your business?”

“We have important news, from Helgen. I have an espionage report to be made. Requested by the Jarl himself to be delivered to him or the General only.” Safia stated plainly.

The Nord looked around and his eyes stuck onto me. “Who is she?”

“A civilian, she is making the report together with me. She is an important asset.” Safia countered.

“Alright, but she is to stay outside while strategic matters are being discussed.” The guard asserted.

“Of course. Just let us know when—” 

Safia was interrupted by a deep voice and a grim face. “Redguard. Did not expect to see you here so early…. Harald, let them enter. We are done with our stratagem.”

“Aye, sir.” The guard sidestepped the doorway and mentioned for us to enter.

We followed Safia and stepped into the cold, fully equipped war room. Displays, maps and boards looked to show enemy movements and intelligence. I stared at the front of the room, which had a huge map of skyrim’s territories filled with troop movements and military installations. At either side stood a stoic nord. One dressed in a bear fur, one in a regal blue uniform. Both stared at us silently. 

Thorald and Safia saluted their commanders while I stood up straight.

“Jarl Ulfric.” The redguard began. “All my hope has been rekindled, seeing you back in Windhlem. We are here to give an official report on the return and also to deliver the full espionage report that you have requested.” 

“Go on, Redguard.” Galmar eyed her suspiciously and trained his gaze on me. “What does an Imperial have to do with this?”

“Sir, she was paramount in recovering our operatives as you will no doubt hear in our reports.”

“Now this will be interesting.” He chuckled.

The Jarl said nothing, but I felt his presence more than I could Galmar’s. Even with a brief look it was as if he could see the contents of my heart laid bare and it both impressed and petrified me.   
“Begin with your journey back from Helgen. I want a report on every operative’s status and performance.” His general ordered.

Safia recalled the last days events and mentioned everyone’s actions. When it came to me she explained that I was able to carry my own weight, that I had patched up the others and offered moral support and that I had good reason to not be a friend to the Imperial government. 

“If she were to choose to join, both Thorald and Ralof would vouch for her, in addition to myself.” She nodded confidently.

Galmar frowned and the Jarl wore an unreadable expression.

“That would need to be discussed. Harald, show the Imperial out, watch over her and wait for Safia to relieve you. Thorald, you are dismissed. Report here, 0900 tomorrow morning. There is a very important issue that needs to be discussed.”

“Aye, Sir.” Thorald bowed and marched out the door. 

Harald, the bored guard showed up in front of me, saluted his superiors and mentioned for me to follow him. I threw Safia a look before turning around and following Harald out.

“That went better that I thought it would.” Thorald leaned and surprised me from behind the open door.

I flinched. “That was ‘better’?! I felt like I was under a microscope that whole time.”

He shrugged. “Can’t blame them that they’re distrustful. Besides, the Jarl could have barred you from entry to the city, taken you prisoner or a hundred other things. All things considered, I think you’re on your way to be less of a milkdrinker.” Thorald placed his hand on my back. 

“Heh, coming from you I guess that’s a complement.” I crossed my arms and leaned by the wall next to him. “Where in Skyrim are you from anyway? I’ve never asked.”

Thorald’s eyes narrowed slightly and he replied plainly. “Whiterun.”

“Wait. Isn’t your last name Gray-Mane? Like the Gray-Mane weapons manufacturer?”

“The very same, lass.” He laughed from his belly. “Eorlund Gray-Mane is my father.”

“What the hell, how come I never put two and two together?” I balked. “That’s crazy! Even people down in the capital know about him. And you’re his son?! Why are you even part of this rebellion? Why aren’t you sitting in a cushy mansion in the cloud district somewhere? You’re risking your life and you could have it easier.”

“If I didn’t know you better I would think you are insulting my family name. One thing you have to learn about real nords, we never choose comfort over honest work. We never choose comfort over honour. And we never choose the easy path. We choose the right one.” He almost leaned over me menacingly. “When I fight with my shield siblings, I don’t care a whit about how many septims they have or what their family name is. I care about who can get the job done. I care about whose heart is in the fight. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And that’s incredible.” I countered. “I didn’t mean to offend, I just wanted to understand. Where I’m from, this is unthinkable.”

“That, I can imagine.” He retorted. “If you take half measures in Skyrim, the cold alone will test you.”

“Seems I have a lot to learn.”

“You’re on your way.” Thorald sounded distant for the first time since I had met him.

In that moment, the door flung open and Safia emerged, looking largely relieved.

“Who’s up for a drink? I’m hitting up Candlehearth Hall after all this.” The woman sighed.

“Count me in.” I raised my hand.

A smile crept over Thorald’s features and he rolled his shoulders. “They better hide their ale reserves as best they can. Elda won’t loose sight of me for more than ten minutes I wager.”

“This better not be like last time.” Safia ribbed Thorald. “Remember when Alessia and I had to drag you out of Vilod’s bar while you were cursing and spitting at this wood elf. You nearly knocked the poor girl out.”

“He deserved a beating. Little cheat was scamming people out of their money!” Thorald said indignantly.

“Yeah and you nearly got the police involved. You were lucky I managed to pacify Vilod in time, otherwise our cover could have been blown to hell.”

“Sounds like nights out with you guys are memorable.” I put myself in between the two. “I’m eager to try the ale, but where will I have a place to stay?”

“The two of us will rent a room at the Inn.” Safia explained. “I’m staying there anyway as I’m an attaché and Thorald will have a place in the barracks prepared for him. We passed the building on the way, it’s only a five minute walk from here.”

We exited the massive main doors of the palace and headed towards the old town. Thorald lead the way with his long strides while I had to almost jog to catch up with him. We passed cobblestone alleyways and buildings with solid masonry work and thatched roofs. We arrived at the main square. Two things stood out before all else: the towering temple of Talos, cladded in an austere and grim façade and the warm, lit-up Candlehearth Hall, with drinkers and buskers standing outside and the sounds of laughter and cheers bubbling out through the half-open windows.

As we moved around the building to the main entrance, we spied a group of nords jeering at a dark elf woman.

“You come here where you’re not wanted, you eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks.” A short stocky drunk bellowed over the woman who looked very taken aback.

“But we haven’t taken a side because it’s not our fight.” She stuttered.

One of his friends butted in with some incredibly insightful commentary. “Hey, maybe the reason these gray-skins don’t help in the war is because they’re Imperial spies!”

The yelling was loud enough that a group of men, all dark elves, who were having a drink at a table by the corner of the building turned around.

“Imperial spies? You can’t be serious!” she huffed.

The first man moved closer to the woman and leaned over. “Maybe I’ll pay you a visit tonight little spy.” One hand moved over the small of her back and her eyes widened. “We got ways of finding out who you really are.” His face hovered over hers and his other hand grabbed her thigh. His friends laughed and gawked at them.

“What the hell Safia! Are you seeing that? We’ve got to call the police.” I whispered harshly to her.

Before she could answer, the gropey nord was ripped off the dunmer woman by a hooded dark elf. Three dunmer had stood up from the table and lunged at the other nords present. 

Thorald’s bellowing laughter shook me. “Nothing like a fight on your fist visit to Candlehearth. It brings good luck you know. My money is on the dark elves. They look scrappier.”

Fists flew and glasses broke. A crowd was starting to build around, as if for a spectacle. The rapey nord’s friend was caught in a chokehold, but tried his best to elbow his attacker. Another nord was pummelling his assailant while the man who started it was wrestling with his bigger, more muscular opponent.

No one seemed to gain the upper hand for quite a bit, but then one of the dark elves was able to knock out his opponent. That immediately turned the tide and the fight was over moments after that. The crowd dispersed as quickly as it had formed and I was left scratching my head as to why everyone was taking this so lightly. 

I could see the nords. Some limped back into the Inn while all but one dark elf had vanished from the scene. His features were obscured by the hood of his jacket, but I could see his eyes trained on me. With no indication that he suffered any significant pain, he strode over to us.

“Well, well.” The man spit onto the fresh snow and pushed back his hood, revealing two familiar looking ruby eyes and a sharply coiffed mohawk. “Welcome to the real Windhelm, muthsera.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is when the shenanigans will really begin ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
